


to catch a spinarak

by MargaritaDaemonelix



Series: lonashipping week 2019 [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: Arachnophobia, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Lonashipping Week 2019, hau's too tired for this, lillie's too tired for this, no spinarak were harmed in the writing of this fic, when frightened or provoked gladion and moon can be absolute forces of destruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 15:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19948585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargaritaDaemonelix/pseuds/MargaritaDaemonelix
Summary: In hindsight, when Moon had called screaming about spiders and pasta salad, they really should have expected... spiders and pasta salad./lonashipping week | day 2: fear





	to catch a spinarak

"Are you kidding me," Hau says, standing over the tattered remains of what might have once been a coffee table. "No. Seriously, you two, please tell me you're kidding."

Moon laughs nervously. "Guess I won't tell you anything, then."

"How do you destroy your apartment like this?" Lillie says, in what might actually be the loudest voice she's managed to conjure since that one time Mallow gave her two shots of tequila and a karaoke mic. "I'm not—How do you even do something like that to your couch? Where did all this pasta come from? How did your hairbrush end up in a flowerpot? _In the kitchen?_ "

A little sheepishly, Moon and Gladion glance at each other, with the clear message of _there's no point in pretending_. Lillie and Hau stand nearby in complete confusion, watching as the remnants of the apartment crumble around them.

"Um," says Gladion, "there was a Spinarak on the ceiling."

* * *

Moon's schedule is significantly less packed than Gladion's, considering how small the combined trainer population of Alola is compared to the rest of the world. A few of the other champions she's met have mentioned being swamped with challengers on the daily, their poor Pokemon worn out from their constant battles. Moon just kinda laughs at them and thinks about all the time she spends at home watching Kantonian dramas. And feeding her Pokemon too many treats for their own good. And eating too many snacks for her own good.

Arceus, those Pecha berry crisps are _good._

She’s just finished fixing herself a bowl of pasta salad (with plenty of bell peppers) and is settling down to start the next episode of _May’s Anatomy_ when the front door rattles with the sound of _someone_ who forgot to take his keys in the morning again. Decidueye cooes as Moon gets to her feet, leaving her perfectly good bowl of pasta salad on the coffee table, and crosses over to open the door.

Gladion looks exhausted, and frankly, he should be, with the five conference meetings he’s been in today. Wicke, blessed may be she, saw him passed out on the couch in the lounge next to the coffee machine and sent him home early, citing her position in human resources as being adequate authority to order him to “get some sleep, dear”. His blazer is draped over his shoulder lazily. His shoes are untied.

Moon kisses his cheek, as she always does when he gets home, and he practically melts on her shoulder and into her embrace. “Bad day?” she asks gently, and he makes a muffled sound of agreement. “Oh, c’mon, you big baby, I made lunch for the both of us.”

“You’re the best,” Gladion murmurs.

She deposits him on the couch, where he proceeds to curl up around her stupidly soft Snorlax cushion and assumes the fetal position. “Some stuffy old prick from Unova is convinced that the whole Ultra Beast thing is a marketing ploy to increase tourism in Alola,” he mutters as Moon wrangles them each a cup of tea. “I had to call Silvally in to intimidate him.”

Moon snorts. “Silvally’s about as intimidating as a newborn Komala,” she says, watching as Decidueye and Silvally nestle themselves into the cocoon of throw blankets and cushions that she’d been so pleasantly cuddled in previously. _So much for that,_ she mourns mentally. “But yes, I can see why stuffy old men might be intimidated by your large puppy.”

Silvally makes a sound that might be a sneeze.

Eventually, Moon just settles in next to her (soft, warm, exceptionally fun-to-tease) boyfriend, taking the Snorlax cushion from his arms and snuggling in herself. “Do you want pasta salad?”

“Salad and pasta are two very separate things,” Gladion says into the nape of her neck. “ _Why_ would you combine them into a single thing.”

“Because it’s healthy!” she protests, at least until he kisses the skin exposed when her t-shirt shifts. It’s just once, a single point of contact, but it’s enough to warm them both up to the core.

Decidueye and Silvally, being well-versed in their trainers’ habits, escape the living room and book it before they have to bear witness to their trainers getting frisky.

 _May’s Anatomy_ fades away in the background, transitioning into a chain of advertisements until the next episode. Moon watches as the people and Pokemon dancing across the TV screen light up the calluses on Gladion’s knuckles in neon colours. Five, six years ago, if anyone had asked her if she thought life like this was possible, she’d laugh at them. It’s amazing how she almost lives in paradise.

“Moon,” Gladion says sleepily. She responds with a hum. “Have you caught any new Pokemon lately?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so.” She tries to twist around in his arms, but stops when she sees the look of horror on his face. “Gladion? What’s wrong?”

Shaking, he points up at the corner of the room. Moon follows his finger, and stops when she sees the Spinarak hanging from the ceiling.

A good number of things happen at that moment.

Moon screams and scrambles to get up, and in the process knocks the pasta salad flying. Bell peppers and colourful rotini fly through the air as Gladion sits up, screaming as well, and gets an eyeful of balsamic. He gets up, loses his balance as Moon tries to sit down, and they both crash into the coffee table, breaking it into three (3) pieces.

“Oh _ow_ my head, Arceus, that hurt,” Gladion groans, rolling over and bonking into one of the chunks of the coffee table. “Oh, my _eyes_ , what did you _put_ in that pasta salad, Moon?”

“Pasta,” she responds, with only the utmost horror as the Spinarak lowers itself to the ground on a single strand of silk, crawls over towards the carnage, _chortles_ , and begins to eat the fallen remnants of their lunch. “So much pasta.”

She grabs him by the shoulders. “Arm yourself,” she hisses, grabbing her phone from her pocket. “We’re gonna need backup.”

* * *

“And that’s what led to you calling Lillie and I, while we were out, _on a date_ , so we could catch a wild Spinarak for you,” Hau concludes, looking equal parts amused and disgruntled. “My good pals, I hate to say this, but you could really work on the, uh, extreme reactions.”

Lillie just looks disgusted by the carnage of the living room. “Now I’m sad that the Spinarak got away,” she comments, looking wistfully at the spiderwebs still left in the corner of the ceiling.

Gladion clears his throat. “Uh, actually, we locked it in the bedroom with Silvally and Decidueye,” he amends. “Silvally picked it up between his teeth and just left.”

“I slammed the door on them,” Moon mutters. “Decidueye is going to demand Occa berry snacks from me for the next two weeks.”

The four of them stand in silence as Moon and Gladion reflect on their awful life decisions, and the fact that they still haven’t had lunch yet. “I’m going to go catch that poor Spinarak,” Lillie decides, “and by the time I get back, you two better have a solution for all of this.”

She disappears into the hallway, probably intending to stomp but unable to do so in the chaos of the pasta still littering the floor.

“Uh.” Hau shifts around uneasily, trying not to kick the loose pasta around. “We should probably start cleaning up.”

“That, we should,” Gladion says, and makes no move to act on his words.

Moon, for her part, just sits down on the tattered couch with a _thump_. “We still haven’t had lunch,” she points out.

“Neither have Lillie and I,” Hau adds, “since we had to rush here after you guys called.”

Lillie returns victorious, a Heal Ball sitting in her hand. “I caught the Spinarak,” she announces, opening her bag and sticking the pokeball in. “It probably has trauma, you guys. Being afraid of spider Pokemon is alright, but _please_ tone it down.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, we’re sorry,” Gladion grumbles. His expression clears up a second later. “Tell you what. How about we all go out to grab lunch, on me, since the Spinarak probably got in when I came home.”

Moon smiles. “Sounds good,” she says. “Mallow’s?”

“Where else?”

Lillie sighs. “Alright,” she says, “but you two have to promise to clean up your apartment when we get back.”

Moon and Gladion glance at each other, and then at the ruins of the living room. Balsamic continues to drip down the sofa. The coffee table is now in four pieces, one of the legs having broken off. _May's Anatomy_ continues to play on the TV. There is _still_ pasta on the ground.

“Honestly,” Moon says, “if there’s anything that terrifies me more than the Spinarak, it’s having to clean _that_ up.”

**Author's Note:**

> my god this was fun to write  
> i originally had like, hardcore angst planned out for this prompt (the draft never got past fifty words and was thus deleted) but i really, really like the fun and the pace of this and honestly i love the interactions of the quartet, i mean c'mon nothing beats friend shenanigans  
> pasta salad is valid if you have bell peppers and aged balsamic vinegar, give it a try trust me it's Really Good  
> we do not speak of the time mallow gave lillie two shots of tequila and a karaoke mic


End file.
